


The Voice in my Head, It Lies

by virgilistic



Series: Tumblr One-Shots by Me [8]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Comforting Virgil, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Logan angst, M/M, Panic Attack, Sad Logan, breakdown - Freeform, self-deprecating thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgilistic/pseuds/virgilistic
Summary: The thoughts had been growing, festering, from the start. He couldn’t tell anyone. They couldn’t know that he was one wrong step away from breaking down.Not Logan. Not logic. Never him. They couldn’t know.Or, well...





	The Voice in my Head, It Lies

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank @ihateitwhenyourejustvague for beta-ing this for me! She’s awesome, and without her this would have so many more typos and grammatical errors. She’s an amazing writer, you can check out her fic at her blog on tumblr along with others written by her!

“ _Oh look, it’s everybody’s favorite character!”_

Deceit. Lies. But he shouldn’t care, right?

“ _You’re the least popular character and you know it._ ”

If only he could just… stop.

“ _Logan, can you stop?_ ”

He needed to stop thinking, stop talking, stop-

“ _We get it, calculator watch!”_

Logan let out a shuddering breath, trying to block out the thoughts that swarmed his mind.

They were fed up, he could tell. The snappy replies, the side comments.

Deceit, lying through his teeth, and old wounds breaking anew.

Logan knew better than to listen to the thoughts, but… he couldn’t help but follow their words.

_Useless._

_Unnecessary._

_Blunt._

_Cold._

Logan knew, in the back of his mind, that these thoughts were unprecedented.

He knew that the others accepted him and his presence, but…

As the days passed by, his doubts grew.

_“Geek squad? More like squadless geek. You’re alone!”_

“ _Oh, Logan’s here, which means I probably did something wrong!”_

He knew.

He did.

He just didn’t know… what it was that he knew at this point. What was the truth, and what was the elaborate facade created by his mind?

He didn’t know.

He didn’t.

Logan tried to muddle through his thoughts, leaning over his desk and tapping a fast pattern on the top with his pen.

He was useless.

_Was he?_

He wasn’t useless.

_But wasn’t he?_

They didn’t need him.

_Or did they?_

They needed him.

_But was that the truth?_

Logan couldn’t tell fiction from fact anymore, and that…

That scared him more than anything else that had come before.

Logan slammed his head down in the desk, throwing his pencil across the room in a split-second flash of frustration.

Who was he, if he wasn’t sure?

Who was he, if his judgement was clouded?

Who was he, if no-one listened?

Who was he?

Logic was cold, unfeeling, precise, accurate.

Logan was… weak. Muddled. Blurred.

And he didn’t know what he could do to fix the problem.

He knew he needed to talk to someone. Patton would offer his special brand of emotional comfort. Roman would try his best to cheer him up with gifts and quality time. Virgil would probably attempt to get him to talk through it.

Logan couldn’t bring himself to let them know.

He thought, maybe…

Maybe he could just stay here, in his room.

The others wouldn’t have to deal with his blunt, oftentimes inadvertently hurtful statements, his lack of understanding over modern humour, his tendency to ramble.

They would go about their day, and Logan would go about his.

Separately.

Something in his chest squeezed, and Logan lifted a hand to rub at his chest, head still laid on the desk.

_Irrational._

Perfectly normal.

 _Wrong_.

Completely acceptable.

The thoughts warred in his head.

Eventually, Logan stood and stumbled out of his chair. Papers were crumpled where his head had been, and the supplies that had been lined perfectly on his desk were spread haphazardly across the surface.

Logan sank against his bed, staring vacantly into the distance. He curled his knees into his chest once he was seated in the floor, and idly picked at a stray thread on the carpet.

He was starting to feel numb, now.

Thoughts floated through his mind, and he acknowledged each at the same time he neglected to dispute them.

_They’d be glad to let you seclude yourself._

_Good riddance._

_Honestly, it must be so tiring for them, pretending to like you._

Logan hummed absently, leaning back against the side of his bed, Arms loosening around his legs. He could feel the frustration, the ache in his chest, the sadness, dull to a throbbing ache in the background.

He stared blearily into space, hardly blinking.

Was he breathing?

Probably. Oh well.

Should he move?

No… Logan much preferred to sit.

Another heavy sigh drifted out of him, and Logan hardly noticed as his door slid open.

In fact, his eyes hardly moved from the distant point they were focused on until the other side said his name.

“Logan?” The voice was unsure, worried.

Logan let his eyes drift over. Virgil stood in the doorway. He had one hand on the door, the other inside his hoodie pocket.

Logan blinked at him.

“Logan, are you okay?” Virgil asked haltingly.

Logan didn’t reply so much as refocus his eyes on the wall again.

Mm. The thoughts were swirling around again. Must be a bad day.

_Oh._

Logan let the thoughts slide around him. He faintly registered that Virgil was standing in front of him again.

“Logan, buddy,” He heard Virgil say. Virgil’s face came between Logan and the wall. “Can you hear me?”

Logan blinked. Forming a reply seemed like… an excessively large use of effort.

Nevertheless, he managed to force out a quiet hum in reply.

“Ok. Do you know where you are, Logan?” Virgil asked softly.

Logan hummed again, moving his head minutely.

“Good.” He went to slowly grab the closest of Logan’s hands. “Can you talk?” He asked.

Logan opened his mouth. The fog in his mind was thicker than he was used to.

“Mm-hmm.” He managed.

“Can you name five things around you can you can see?”

“Pencil.” Logan started. His voice was quiet, hardly above a murmur. “Desk. Calendar. Clock. Stars.”

“Four things you can feel?”

Logan took a second. Feel..?

“Um. Carpet. The bed. Socks. Glasses.”

Virgil nodded. “Three things you can hear?”

“You. The fan. The sound of your nails.”

Virgil smiled guiltily, curling his free hand in a fist to stop the nervous clicking.

“Two things you can smell?” Virgil asked.

Logan found the fog in his head clearing, and let his eyes focus in on Virgil’s. Virgil’s eyes were worried, but sure.

“Mint. I can smell mint, and chocolate.”

“And one thing you can taste?”

Logan frowned. “Blood. I bit my lip.”

Virgil nodded, brow furrowing.

“Let’s take a deep breath, okay?”

Logan grimaced, but nodded anyways.

He took a breath in sync with Virgil.

“Do you know what caused it?” Virgil asked quietly after a few seconds, moving to sit beside him, leaning back against the bed.

Logan hesitated before nodding. He did. He still wasn’t sure where the line between truth and falsity was drawn.

“Do you want to talk?”

Virgil’s voice was steady and supportive. If Logan chose to spill, he knew Virgil would listen, quiet and attentive.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready.

The room was sharp around him now, he could think, but…

The worries still spun in his mind.

Logan finally nodded. “Okay.”

He spilled.

He talked about how words had been piling up, how Logan’s insecurities had accumulated all at once, how he had heard them so many times, he’d developed a kind of logical reasoning to back them up.

How he didn’t know right from left anymore, didn’t know black from white.

Virgil listened. He listened when Logan’s voice warbled, when the first tears tumbled down his cheeks, when Logan’s breaths came in hiccups and his vision was blurred.

And when Logan was done, he was still there.

He held out an arm to Logan, and Logan almost collapsed into his side.

Virgil talked in a low soothing tone as he wrapped a heavy, secure, comforting arm around Logan.

He reassured him. He showed him where the line was drawn in the sand.

He was useless.

_Or was he?_

He wasn’t useless.

There was no lie.

They didn’t need him.

_Or did they?_

They needed him.

That was the truth.

Logan knew that… in the grand scheme of things, these thoughts wouldn’t disappear.

He knew that the doubt was there, that the thoughts were only fought back.

That tonight was only one battle of the war.

But he had kind, understanding Virgil.

He had brave, supportive Roman.

He had sweet, encouraging Patton.

He had his family, and maybe… maybe next time, he would be able to come to them when the doubt took over his mind.


End file.
